


Xiaolin Reborn

by ZisNotaBird



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7245538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZisNotaBird/pseuds/ZisNotaBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Xiaolin Dragons have always been powerful, but when Jack Spicer accidentally breaks an ancient seal, their full powers, and the origins of Xiaolin and Heylin will be revealed. Joined by the long forgotten Xiaolin Guardians, our monks will face greater threats and rise to heights not seen in over a thousand years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awake

The Dragons leaned over the ledge of the abandoned well, dread building as Dojo nodded.

  
“It's down there alright, sure as my name is Dojo Kanojo Cho,"“How much do we need the Aisling Circlet?” Kimiko asked with a grimace.  
“It creates illusions using the wielders imagination,” Dojo said. “You want that in the hands of Chase Young or Wuya or even Jack Spicer?”  
Kimiko groaned, but she had to agree. Chase and Wuya were ancient and had seen/created horrors beyond what she could imagine. And Jack? Well, he was just creepy. The thought of being caught in an illusion created by his mind made her skin crawl.  
Clay placed the Falcon's Eye over his right eye, scanning the bottom of the well for the Wu. Finally, he shook his head.  
“Nothin',” he said with a shrug. “It could be stuck in the mud or in the walls.” Raimundo leaned far over the well's opening, making Kimiko more nervous than she already was. An accidental viewing of a horror movie about a girl in a well at the tender age of five had given her a phobia of them for years. She was over it by now, but she couldn't shake the chilling vibes they gave her.  
“Sure is dark down there,” Rai said with a whistle. “Pretty tight too. Sure wish we knew somebody small who could light their own way.” Raimundo gave her a too-sweet smile as he pulled himself back to safety. She scowled at him, for scaring her and for being right. She was the best person for the job, no matter how much she hated it.  
“And how exactly am I supposed to get down there without breaking my neck?”  
Omi had the answer, whipping out the blanket they had used to dive into the volcano for the Sapphire Dragon. What a mess that had turned into...  
Kimiko took the corners of the blanket in each hand and allowed Clay to put her onto the ledge. The well was four feet across, large by most standards and plenty of space to drift down safely. She silently told herself this as she bent her knees, sucked in a deep breath, and hopped into the inky abyss. Cool air whipped her blue wig away from her face. She dropped only five feet before throwing her arms up and allowing the blanket to become a parachute. She jerked to a stop, sturdy but stylish hiking boots scraping down the rock of the well, then the mud of the hole. After a few agonizing minutes of pitch blackness, she hit the ground, falling unto her hands and knees.  
The air was stagnant and damp, the mud soft enough to sink an inch into. Kimiko left the blanket at her feet and snapped a flame to life in her hands. The light spread across the walls, and deeper into a stone cave. Kimiko gasped as her flames glinted off of the form of a banged up Jack-bot, discarded just inside the cave. She jerked her head up to the ring of light above her, diminished by the shadows of her friends.  
“Guys!” She shouted. “You need to come down her, quickly!” The shadows disappeared briefly, then reappeared as a form blocked out the light, drifting towards her. She couldn't wait for the boys to get to her. She turned to the cave entrance and started to jog, footsteps echoing as she followed a set of uneven bootprints.

 

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Jack limped along, Aisling Circlet in hand. This should have been easy, for once. He'd beaten the Xiaolin losers to the Wu, and Wuya either couldn't come after it or wasn't interested in it. Nobody seemed to know where Hannibal had gone after his defeat the month before. Things had been calm. He'd thought getting to this Wu first could turn the tides for him. He'd done nothing but lose after that time traveling debacle. It almost didn't feel right to call the Xiaolin side losers...  
His bad foot hit an uneven tile, sending a fresh wave of pain up his leg. Stupid Jack-bots with their stupid wings getting damaged in the stupid well. He'd have to work on a new way of flying, if only to avoid another free fall.  
Jack lifted his flashlight up from the ground, only to narrowly avoid running into a wall. Had that always been so close? It looked so far just a minute ago. Whatever.  
He put the flashlight in his mouth and skimmed the surface of the wall with his hands. This was clearly man made. Nobody would make a cave at the bottom of a well that lead nowhere. No breeze. Fine. He ran his hands over them a second time, pressing into each individual brick as he went. Finally, in the third to last row, it gave. Jack limped back as the wall sank into the ground, revealing a hallway lit by a dull yellow glow. He briefly wondered where the light was coming from, but the sounds of a high pitched shout in the distance, Kimiko for sure, sent him limping forward as fast as he could.  
The hallway turned left almost immediately, leading him down a sloped hall. Even at his halved pace, it only took him about a minute to reach the bottom, where he rested against the wall and peered out into the round, open chamber. Five statues were in the room, seemingly locked in combat.  
The first stood just a few feet away, the statue of a woman, back pressed against the wall and arrow notched in her bow. She was wounded, a broken arrow sticking out from her thigh, and multiple wounds on her chest and stomach. Her face was twisted in pain, but her eyes seemed to burn with ferocity. Out of all the museums in the world his parents had dragged him to, he had never seen a statue like this. He spied something behind her head. He was just able to slip it out from behind her, a slip of paper with Chinese characters written in a thick, flowing style. Something about the paper seemed off, but he couldn't place it.  
Touched by curiosity, Jack circled the room, examining each statue in turn. They were all wounded in some way, fatally wounded, he realized, and all exquisitely detailed. A man crouched in the center of the room, palms pressed to the floor. Another man was being chased to another exit directly across from the archway he entered. Two more statues, a man and a woman, chased the fleeing man with weapons and outstretched hands.  
Around the room, he ripped three more papers from the walls. The neatness of the characters diminished as he went, and the third was stained with blood. Something in the back of his head whispered for him to examine the man in the center, that there was something important about him. Jack hobbled to the man and crouched down to peer at his hands. The corner of another paper stuck out from under his hands. Jack took the corner, and then realized what was so different about these papers.  
They were stark white. Everything in this room was covered in a layer of dust. The air was suffocatingly still. Even the strange light cast the chamber in a sepia tone, as if this room were an old photo. It wasn't just the paper. He too did not seem to be cast in the yellowness of the light, rather, he looked as though he were perfectly illuminated by white light. Something about this place suddenly frightened him, but he didn't let go of the corner. That little voice urged him to pull it out. Was that voice even from his own mind?  
“Jack Spicer!”  
Omi's declaration cut through the silence like an explosion and Jack jumped back in surprise, taking the paper with him.

 

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Omi's tiger instincts were fighting him as he dashed down the path. Something bad was at the end of this hallway. Had he not been chasing a powerful Shen Gong Wu, he would have advised extreme caution, but as Dojo had said, this was a dangerous Shen Gong Wu. Jack Spicer could not be allowed to keep it. He gripped his Shimo Staff as he rounded the first corner. He'd just have to take the Aisling Circlet and leave as quickly as possible.  
At the end of the slope, Omi skidded to a halt and found Jack among a group of statues. His tiger instincts roared and fear rippled through him. The bad thing is here! Don't go in there!  
Omi swallowed the fear and squared his shoulders.  
“Jack Spicer!”  
Jack's familiar shriek echoed through the chamber for only a moment before chaos erupted.  
Without a trace of fanfare or warning, the statues were people and the light was sunlight from above. A woman fired an arrow. A man dashing for the exit whirled suddenly, hands glowing green with Heylin magic. A third eye opened from his forehead and the magic surged, blasting away the two warriors chasing him. The arrow flew, glowing white as it passed over the man in the center, then piercing deeply through the Heylin man's chest. He staggered backwards, then fled through the exit, leaving a trail of blood behind him.  
Kimiko gasped behind him, snapping Omi out of his shock. The other warriors lay on the ground, eerily still, but the woman beside them slid to the ground, letting her bow clatter beside her.  
“Miss!” Omi shouted, jumping to her side. His fellow Dragons were quick to follow. Clay tore off his handkerchief but hesitated, not sure which injury to treat. Finally he pressed the cloth into the wound on her thigh. The woman hardly seemed to notice.  
“You are kind, young Dragons,” the woman said, her raspy voice hardly audible. “Which of you... is the Dragon of Water?” Omi gulped, then took her shaking hand. He tried not to think about the blood. The woman smiled weakly at him. “My Dragon.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I'm so happy I could see you, just once more.”  
Omi simply gaped at her. A million questions ran through his mind. Who was she? How long had she been here? How did she recognize him as a Xiaolin Dragon, and why was he her Dragon? He would have asked them all, but facing this woman, watching her life drain away, the words refused to come.  
She tensed suddenly and tried to sit up. The Dragons protested, urging her to rest, but she waved them away.  
“I can still serve you, I can still give you one last thing.” She closed her eyes tightly and clasped her hands together. A faint orange glow surrounded her, gathering towards her hands.  
“Look,” Raimundo gasped.  
The three fallen warriors were glowing. Silver, purple, and yellow. Their glows gathered into balls above them. When the last of their light had come together, it shot skyward and disappeared. The woman sagged with relief, arms falling to her sides. She was fading fast.  
“Four Xiaolin,” she said. “Find them, your Guardians. Find Zhixin. He can't... he musn't return.”  
Omi wasn't sure what to say. He had faced death, he had seen his own friends die in a horrible timeline, but it had all been so fast.  
“What is your name?” He asked meekly. She smiled up at him with the last of her strength.  
“I am Li Jing,” she swallowed painfully, “Thank you.” She managed one last rattling breath before her chest stilled, and her face shifted in a subtle, but significant way. Li Jing, whoever she had been, was gone.  
The Dragons were silent for a while, unsure of what to do.  
“Should we bury them?” Clay finally asked, hat in his hands.  
“They're already underground,” Rai said. The words seemed callous, but his voice betrayed how helpless he felt. “They died fighting this Zhixin guy, died fighting for the Xiaolin side.”  
“We should honor them,” Omi said solemnly. Clay looked up at the sunlight that appeared to come from nowhere, then around the chamber.  
“Not such a bad resting place,” he decided. Glint by one of the fallen warriors caught his eye. Clay approached his body cautiously, only to find the Aisling Circlet by his hand. He held it up for the others to see.  
“He musta dropped it,” he said.  
“Where'd he go?” Kimiko asked. Their eyes went to the other entrance.

 

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In four temples around the world, four teenagers collapsed.


	2. Seek

That night, Raimundo lead his friends and Master Fung down to the river. They released four paper lanterns onto the slow moving surface of the water and hung their heads respectfully. It had Omi's idea to have a ceremony, but Master Fung had convinced them both that it was Raimundo's duty to carry it out.   
“We honor the lives and deaths of Li Jing and her fellow warriors,” he said in a voice that felt too mature to be his own. “Rest in peace. Your lives are not forgotten.” The others murmured the last after him. They watched the lanterns drift away until they could no longer be seen, then started back for the temple, relaying the story to Master Fung as they went.   
“She told us to find the Xiaolin Guardians,” Raimundo said as the entered the courtyard.   
“And that we must stop a man named Zhixin from returning!” Omi piped.   
“I'm not sure who Zhixin is,” Master Fung started, leading them towards the library, “But the Xiaolin Guardians are familiar.” The old monk puttered around the library before finding a small, worn scroll and opening it before them.   
“While you will learn much about the origins of your powers as you progress, I can tell you that there is a part of you that is reborn, reincarnated, and has lived for thousands of years. This is where your powers come from, and this part of you is not human.”  
“Wait,” Kimiko said, rubbing her temples, “Are we actually dragons? I thought that was just a title!”  
“You are most certainly human,” he said gently, “But this part of your being has origins that are not. Forgive me for not explaining further, but it isn't my place to do so.” Clay, Kimiko, and Raimundo exchanged a look they had coined, “Is Master Fung full of it or really wise?” Omi was not included in this look.   
“As I was saying, your origins are not human, nor are your powers, but you are. Your powers, your true powers as full fledged Dragons, are too much for a single human to bare. That is why there are Guardians.” Master Fung tapped the scroll over a picture of two people linking hands with a Dragon above them. “The Guardians bare the burden of your extended powers and fight alongside you.” He pointed next to a guide of elements. Water and Wood. Fire and Lightning. Wind and Sound. Earth and Metal.   
“There haven't been any Guardians or full fledged Dragons in over a thousand years!” Dojo said from Master Fung's shoulder. “Under normal circumstances, if you can call it that, you would choose a Guardian and give them their powers after coming of Wudai rank. Otherwise, your extended powers would begin to emerge, and eat away at you.” Dojo snapped his mouth a few times to demonstrate.   
“Those Guardians were sealed for a long time,” Raimundo said. “I bet that's why there haven't been any full Dragons!” He looked to Master Fung who smiled proudly and nodded.   
“Li Jing said to find the four Xiaolin,” Omi said. “She must have sent their powers to Xiaolin monks.”  
“She really did do us a service, keeping us from being consumed by our powers,” Kimiko said softly.   
“So all we gotta do is find these monks and bring 'em here to train with us!” Clay said.  
“How do we do that?” Rai asked. The four of them turned to Master Fung in unison.   
“It is not difficult,” Master Fung said. “Rest for now, we will find them in the morning.”

 

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Jack fell from his bed with a shriek, heart hammering in his chest and broken ankle throbbing. He scrambled to get away from the thing that hovered above him. It took him several seconds to see beyond the fear and process exactly what glowered down at him.   
A ghost.   
It resembled Wuya's ghostly form, in that they both seemed to be made up of a mask and a hazy gas body, but the resemblance ended there. His mask was as black as space and featureless, just two holes for eyes, behind which two green orbs floated, slit down the middle by white pupils, like a cat. His body was a swirling mass of gray. It reminded him of a car's exhaust, probably just as toxic too.   
“You left me,” the ghost said. Its voice was deep and distorted, as if it were being said through a voice changer.   
Jack swallowed. “What?” The ghost drifted down to him, green eyes boring into his red.   
“You ran past me, in the tunnel. I reached out for you. You saw me.” Jack felt a chill run down his spine. This was the ghost of that man, the one who'd been shot in the chamber.   
“Th-there was nothing I could do!” Jack spluttered, crawling backwards. The ghost followed silently, eyes unwavering. It watched him for a long moment, then finally turned his head away, looking around the room.   
“You are Heylin?” It asked. “What of your skills? What can you do?” Jack sat up a little straighter.  
“Well, I make robots! All different kinds!” It turned back to him. Those awful eyes made his blood run cold.   
“What are robots?” Right. This was an ancient ghost, maybe older than Wuya.   
“They're mindless metal minions,” he said, more than a little proud of the alliteration. “They can fight, cook, dig, serve, anything you want!”  
“Hmm,” was all the ghost said. Jack pushed himself up to his feet, leaning heavily on a workbench. Time to do what he did best.  
“Listen, I don't know what you want, but I'll tell you what I want.” Jack gestured to the world map that hung over his main workbench. “The whole world, I want all of it! I've got big plans, but I'm a little down on my luck at the moment. I hardly have any Shen Gong Wu-”  
“What is Shen Gong Wu?” Jack blinked at the ghost, stunned. Did this guy predate the Shen Gong Wu? Just how old was he?  
“They're... these magical artifacts. Some Xiaolin guy named Dashi created them.”   
“I know of no Dashi,” the ghost said.   
“O...kay, well, they're really powerful, and I think you and I could make a great team. With your ancient knowledge and my modern knowledge, nobody could stand in our way!” The ghost stared at him again, then looked him up and down. “What do you say Mr. Ghost? Can I call you Mr. Ghost?”   
The ghost lunged at him suddenly, phasing through his head. Jack shook as he lingered inside of him, the feeling of cold cobwebs and rot spreading through him. He hadn't felt this since Wuya was ghostly, and even then she had never stayed in him for long.  
Finally, the ghost phased out of him and he collapsed on the floor, furiously rubbing his arms for warmth.   
“You may call me Zhixin,” the ghost said. “And my answer is no.”  
With that, he flew out the sole window and into the breaking dawn, leaving Jack with only his robots for company.

 

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The Dragons sat in a circle, small glass balls cupped in their hands.   
“These spheres can be used for a spell to locate something, or in our case someone.” Master Fung circled around the four of them slowly. “If what you say is correct, your chi and your Guardians' chi are linked through your elements. Scrying spells can be difficult, but this connection should allow you to locate them for yourselves.” Master Fung paused behind Raimundo, who was bouncing his ball between his hands. He put a hand on the boy's head, nearly making him drop it. “Simply focus your chi into the ball, and focus on your need to find your Guardian.” The Dragons nodded, and closed their eyes in turn.   
Master Fung felt the air shift just slightly, a tiny crackle of magic. Impossible to sense, unless one was deeply acquainted with it, or a being of magical origin, like Dojo. The little dragon perked up from his shoulders, giving him a look.   
Raimundo cried out as his ball flew up into the air, flung up by his wind. The others jumped at his outburst.   
“Focus young one, try not to let your energy take form.”  
“No, I found him!” Master Fung tried not to look surprised. Raimundo jumped to his feet, grinning from ear to ear. “He's in Germany, his name is Nikolai! I'm gonna go get the Golden Tiger Claws!” Raimundo ran from the room before anyone could say a word. Omi stared after him, mouth agape. Master Fung knew he was still struggling with the decision to make Raimundo leader, and struggling even more with how fast his fellow Dragons were catching up to him.   
“It's not a race, Omi,” he said gently. “We all have our strengths and weaknesses.” Omi nodded to him, but screwed his eyes shut and squeezed the ball tightly. Master Fung resisted the urge to sigh.   
A few moments later, Kimiko leapt up, clapping excitedly.   
“It's a girl! A girl in India! Finally another girl!”  
“Take the Crouching Cougar.” Kimiko nodded furiously and ran off, and Master Fung had to smile. Having another girl in the temple would do wonders for her.   
A few minutes passed before Clay pushed himself to his feet.   
“Looks like I'm headed to South Africa,” he said. “Think I'll take the Silver Manta Ray, unless Dojo wants to take me.”  
“Thanks but no thanks. Last time I went there, Dashi and I met these locals who tried to teach us to commune with nature. I nearly got eaten by a hippo!” Clay shrugged, then tipped his hat in farewell and left them.   
Omi's shoulders sagged in defeat as Master Fung knelt beside him.   
“I do not understand,” Omi said. “I am focusing my chi perfectly! I should have had this in a warm minute!”  
“Hot second,” Dojo corrected, earning a sharp glance from Master Fung.  
“I have no doubts in your skills, young monk. Have you considered the fault may lie in your mind?” Omi frowned, peering into the glass ball. “You must have a total desire to find your Guardian. If any part of you is hesitant, it will not work.”  
Omi paused for a long moment before speaking again. “I am afraid Master Fung. I am afraid of my Guardian suffering the same fate as Li Jing.” Master Fung put a hand on the boy's shoulder, eyes soft with sympathy. Dojo curled up in Omi's lap.   
“I felt the same way about raising you,” he said softly. “And taking on Kimiko, Clay, and Raimundo. You must have faith in yourself, in your ability to guide your Guardian, and have faith in your Guardian's own skills.” Omi took a deep breath. Magic sparked anew. Sitting so close, Master Fung could feel its tiny power and tight focus. In moments, Omi's head popped up.  
“I have found her! She is in France!” Omi blinked. “And she is a girl...”   
“Did you say France? I've been meaning to get me some fancy cheeses!” Dojo expanded suddenly, scooping up Omi in his claws. “Be back soon, Pookie-Bear! I'll bring you back some fresh brie!”   
Master Fung watched them leave, then set off for the library. He'd managed to keep his calm and wise persona as the monks told him of what happened, but he was frightened. The path to becoming a fully fledged Dragon was deadly. The powers they would gain would only make them targets for Heylin. He doubted Chase or Hannibal would be intimidated into staying down.  
The world was about to change about to change forever, and Master Fung wanted to be prepared.


	3. Found

Clay stood before the archway of the temple, peering around curiously. The temple sat on the outskirts of Cape Town, an elderly woman running a fruit stand had directed him, and given him a discount on a couple of oranges. He figured he could give his Guardian one, Izak was his name, as a token of friendship.  
The temple itself was small, about half the size of his own temple, but ancient and strong. Built originally from mud and branches, the base of it still remained beneath the simple concrete walls. The elderly woman was all too happy to tell him all about the temple, its history, and the man in charge he could speak to. Her late husband had studied there after being given a helping hand. Clay tipped her nicely as he left.  
A man with the darkest skin Clay had ever seen spotted him then smiled and waved him over. The man wore a high collared white shirt and black pants similar to Omi's. He introduced himself as Kabelo.  
“I'm Clay,” he shook the man's hand, who smiled broadly in return. “I'm, uh, the Dragon of Earth?” Kabelo's eyebrows shot up and he laughed in surprise.  
“You are aptly named, Dragon of Earth! What brings you to our humble temple?” Clay gave him an abridged version of the previous day's events, and explained that a boy named Izak held the spirit of his Guardian. Kabelo seemed to swell with pride, he even saw a tiny glimmer of tears.  
“That explains much, Izak collapsed during a spar yesterday. When he woke, the poor boy, he said he felt like something was inside of him, like a ghost.” He began to walk deeper into the temple, motioning for Clay to follow. “He's fine now, no more ghosts in him. He's like a son to me, Izak. He's a good boy.” Kabelo stopped at the entrance of a courtyard, where a group of kids in street clothes were practicing with bo staffs, lead by a young woman. Kabelo called out to Izak, and a teenaged boy perked up. He was short, a few inches shorter than Raimundo, and had dark skin, though not as dark as Kabelo's. His dreads were pulled back into a short ponytail and he wore black gym shorts and a black tee shirt. He bowed briefly to the young woman before approaching them at a jog. The two spoke at length in a language that Clay didn't begin to recognize before Kabelo finally took them both by the shoulder. He turned to Izak first.  
“Ke tla bua le lelapa la hao. Feela u thoto.”  
Izak bowed his head with a small smile. “Kea leboha.”  
Kabelo turned to Clay. “Be good to him.” With that, he left them. Clay coughed, feeling awkward.  
“I'm Clay, Clay Bailey.” He offered his hand. After a moment's pause, Izak took it, expression neutral. He almost looked bored.  
“Izak van Hulst.” His voice was shockingly deep, considering he only looked about sixteen.  
“It's good to meet you. Oh! I brought you something,” He dug the orange from his bag and offered it to him. He took it, then tossed it to a young boy who had been watching them.  
“I don't like oranges.”

 

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Raimundo shifted nervously as he tucked the Golden Tiger Claws under his shirt. He had been to the temple at first, but the head monk said Nikolai was at his home. Apparently, he had collapsed while mopping the floors and hit his head. The monks had insisted he spend the next day resting, but they were more than happy to give the Dragon of Wind his address.  
The house was simple; two stories, light brown with dark brown shutters, well kept lawn and flowers growing along the walkway. It was practically the stereotypical image of middle class life.  
He wondered if anybody in the house spoke English. Would Nikolai even speak English? He rang the doorbell, feeling ridiculous. What would he say? Hi, I'm Raimundo. You don't know me but I'm here to take your kid away for a long time because I accidentally gave him magic powers, sort of.  
The door opened, startling him. A young man stood in the doorway, brown hair neatly groomed and muscles straining against his tee shirt. A cool dry breeze drifted out, a blessing in the summer heat. He spied a tall blond boy lounging on the couch behind him.  
“Kann ich Ihnen mit irgendwas helfen?” Raimundo blinked.  
“Um, sprechen English?”  
“Ja, who are you?” Raimundo sighed in relief.  
“I'm here to see Nikolai? I know he's injured but it's but it's actually about why it happened. Not that it's my fault! Not really, I mean.” He was babbling. He shut his mouth, hoping the man understood him. He looked Rai up and down, the shouted for Nikolai over his shoulder. The boy on the couch pulled himself up, pressing an ice pack to his head.  
“Ich bin genau hier! Sie brauchen nicht zu schreien.” The man shrugged and stepped away so Nikolai could speak to him.  
Nikolai leaned against the doorway, a good six inches taller than him, if not more. His hair was longish and shaggy and stuck up in the back from laying down. He swept his bangs away from his blue eyes, wincing in pain.  
“Who are you?” Thank god, he spoke English.  
“I'm Raimundo Pedrosa, and I'm the Xiaolin Dragon of Wind.” Nikolai gaped.  
“For real? I thought you Dragons were tucked up in China somewhere?”  
“We have our ways of getting around.” Nikolai pulled the ice pack away, revealing a nasty bruise just above his left temple. Raimundo winced in sympathy. “Sorry about that.” Nikolai furrowed his brows.  
“Did you do that?”  
“Well, no, but also kind of yes?” Nikolai watched him. “It's a long story, my Master can explain better, but the short version is you passed out because you got a part of my powers and now I need you to come to China with me so I can become a full fledged Dragon.” It sounded insane. He could use the Tiger Claws to show him magic was real, plus his own powers would have to convince him.  
“Okay.” Raimundo nearly fell over.  
“W-what?” Nikolai shrugged.  
“It makes sense. I had super crazy dreams, a voice urged me to find my Dragon and, this might sound weird but,” he waved a hand between the two of them, “I feel this weird... thing between us. Familiarity? I don't know.” Raimundo paused, reaching out with his mind. If he focused hard enough, some part of him could feel it. A bond. It must have been stronger for Nikolai to feel it so easily. “So is this a long term thing? Yeah? Would you mind helping me pack? Your magic dragon powers gave me a concussion.”

 

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Omi felt the eyes of nearby passengers on him as he tried to make head or feet of the brochure he’d been given. Dojo sat curled around his shoulders, murmuring to himself.  
“Can you read it?” He whispered. Had Dojo not been just beside his mouth, the noise of the bus and the tourists would have made him impossible to hear.  
Dojo sighed. “No, it’s been so long and French has changed so much over the centuries!”  
Omi made a noise of frustration that sounded closer to a whine. “Why must my Guardian attend to this strange temple in this strange place!? Why could she have not been from China!?”  
Dojo took the brochure from him while he stewed.  
“Looks more like a castle than a temple...” A couple laughed from somewhere behind them, exclaiming in Chinese. Omi perked up.  
“Ah, I’ll ask them for help! Surely they must understand French to be here.”  
“We’re here and we don’t,” Dojo said. Omi ignored him and hopped up onto his seat, just as the bus came to a lurching halt, sending the little monk face first into the back of the seat in front of him. The passengers hurried out, ignoring the boy and his “pet snake”. Omi stumbled off the bus, powering through the dizziness of the impact, and followed the tour.  
Dojo had been right, the temple looked more like a castle because it had been a castle before the family passed on and the estate fell into disrepair. It was only a century ago that a man named Claude Cheng had bought the estate for the purpose of educating others on the Xiaolin practices his mother had taught him. It had been her dying wish to open a temple in France, apparently.  
“This temple is now one of a handful in Europe, and one of less than a hundred in the world Most were built throughout Asia, though some do exist in the Americas and just two were built in Australia.”  
Omi nodded along, surprised at the correct information. He had had his doubts when he learned that tourists frequented the temple, but now he realized it must have been legitimate. Emboldened by the realization, he hung back as the group rounded a corner and doubled back down the corridor to the main entrance. The left side of the entrance had been cordoned off with a red rope barrier. Omi slipped easily under it, hardly needing to duck, and quickly but quietly crept down the hall.  
The corridor was bare and simple, decorated with a few watercolors and plants here and there. It was a stark contrast to the hall for tourists, which had been lined with old photographs and displays of weapons and armor.  
Omi came upon a corner and ducked behind a large potted plant. Footsteps, approaching quickly too. If only he’d brought the Shroud of Shadows… Then it occurred to him. He was the Dragon of Water, this was a Xiaolin temple! He had no need to hide, they should be welcoming him! Omi straightened and stepped out from behind the plant, just in time to effectively trip a girl with long red hair. The two fell to the floor, the girl dropping a stack of books that sprawled across the hall.  
“Ah zut, désolé -” The girl looked at him, face lighting up. “Boris! Ça fait tellement longtemps! Tu es devenu plus grand!”  
Omi blinked and cocked his head to the side. The girl blushed deeply.  
“S-sorry! You look so much like him...” She stared for a long moment, then shook her head. “Sorry, sorry, for running into you.” She quickly turned away and started to gather her books. Omi hopped to his feet and grabbed the last few books, handing them to her with a grin.  
“It is my own fault, my low body makes for excellent fighting and sneakiness. I should have made myself known. I am Omi.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake. She gave him a small smile in return.  
“I’m Sylvie.” She took his hand and Omi felt a powerful jolt. Sylvie had felt it too, her eyes widening in a mix of shock and recognition.  
“It’s you!” They shouted it nearly in one voice.  
“You are the girl- my Guardian!”  
“I saw you,” Sylvie said breathlessly, setting her books down. “In a dream, a woman, she let me into her head, she showed me you.” She ran a hand through her bangs, laughing softly. “I thought it was nonsense, I thought I was dreaming about my friend.”  
A cold pang struck Omi. He tried not to let her see the fear he felt.  
Before he could get a word out, Dojo burst forth from his sleeve, convulsing. Sylvie jumped back, squeaking in surprise.  
“We got a live one!” Dojo cried. “The Gravity Grip has revealed itself!” Omi nodded, then turned to Sylvie, expression serious.  
“You must come with me. I can explain on the way, but you have to come now.”  
She hesitated, then swallowed deeply and squared her shoulders.  
“Let’s go.”

 

XS-XS-XS-XS-XS-XS-XS-XS

 

Kimiko tapped furiously on her phone as the old woman watched her. A small crowd of children watched her openly. She'd worn a sari, hoping to be able to blend in, but it only seemed to accentuate how foreign she was. A little girl stood on her toes to peek at her phone, eyes wide with wonder. This temple's mission, as an English speaking police officer had told her, was to care for the poor. They still studied martial arts and magic and Xiaolin history, but healing and assisting anyone who came to their door was their biggest concern. Kimiko thought that was amazing.  
And the temple itself was beautiful. An elegant fusion of Chinese and Indian architecture, it had been built over a century ago by the son of a rich and powerful family, who became enamored with the Xiaolin way after a visit from a traveling monk. She'd looked that up on her phone after speaking to the officer.  
Finally, she she turned her screen to the woman, hoping she spoke Hindi and that she could understand the probably broken sentences it had translated. It briefly explained who she was and that she was looking for a girl named Avani.  
“Oh, Avani!”  
“Yes! She's ah,” Kimiko hesitated, “Very important.”  
“Vah meree potee hai!” The woman beamed at her. Kimiko blinked and smiled back.  
“Okay...” The woman took her by the arm and lead her inside, babbling happily in Hindi. Kimiko just smiled and nodded whenever she looked to her. Finally, they came upon a dining hall. A girl leaned against the wall, a broom propped up beside her while she played on her phone. She had tawny skin and thick black hair pulled up into a loose bun. She wore a high-waisted blue skirt with a white tank top and knee high boots. Kimiko almost felt silly compared to her, wearing such traditional clothes while she looked like she could have come off the streets of New York City.  
“Vani!” Avani jumped, nearly dropping her phone. The woman didn't seem mad that she was taking a break.  
“Kshama karen daadee,” she bowed her head, smiling sheepishly. Then she spotted Kimiko and approached them. “Hi, can I help you?”  
“You speak English?”  
“Yeah, we learn it in schools, and Daadima always brings English speakers to me if my uncle's not around.” Kimiko looked between the two of them, catching glimpses of similarity between the two. The shape of their eyes were strikingly similar.  
“Oh! She's your grandmother!”  
“Yep! My dad's mother. So, what do you need?”  
“Well, uh, you actually.” Avani tilted her head.  
“Me? What do you need me for?”  
“It's a long story, see, I'm from-” Kimiko was cut off suddenly by a crash and a piercing scream. Several more followed, and a group of children ran into the dining hall from the gardens on the opposite end of the hall, ushered in by a middle aged man.  
“Uncle!” Avani shouted, running to him, Kimiko quickly followed. “Uncle Kumara, what's going on?” The man shook his head, gasping for breath.  
“A monster, a red demon!”  
Kimiko grimaced, hand already reaching into the pouch for her Arrow Sparrow as she dashed for the gardens.  
Hannibal was there to greet her, along with Chase Young. She swallowed nervously as Hannibal gave her a wicked grin. If they had a common goal, and a common enemy in herself, she’d be in trouble.  
“Well lookit this,” Hannibal drawled. “Just the little girl? Where are your friends?”  
She poured the flash of rage into her hands, igniting her Wudai Weapon.  
“None of your business, bean dip.” She spied something on his tentacle-turned-arms; a knuckle duster, silver and bright blue. It must have been a Wu, she doubted Hannibal had suddenly gotten into gangster fashion, fitting as it was. Hannibal noticed her watching and raised his fist.  
“Like it? I’m not usually one to go after a minor Shen Gong Wu but I couldn’t help myself. This one’s brutal.”  
“Seems fitting for an unrefined brute,” Chase sneered. Kimiko shuddered at their unspoken agreement.  
“Is that why you’ve been on my tail, trying to take it?”  
“You know how I feel about those trinkets. I have my own reasons for being here,” Chase turned his head to smirk at Kimiko. She lowered into a fighting stance. “Getting the chance to ruin your day and take your toys was just a perk.”  
Hannibal snarled, then thrust his Wu laden fist out. “Gravity Grip!” Chase moved to leap forward, but fell to his knees, as if pushed down by an invisible force. Hannibal cackled. He’d forced the great and powerful Chase Young to his knees. Chase slowly began to rise, clearly a difficult task, but Hannibal lowered his fist and Chase was driven back down, forcefully enough to make the ground beneath him crack.  
She could have left, she could have taken Avani away in the Crouching Cougar and left Hannibal to torment Chase, but there was no guarantee he’d leave the people in the temple alone. In fact, left to his own devices, he’d almost certainly turn his attention to them.  
She’d have to fight then. She’d have to take on Hannibal.  
She struck quickly while he was distracted, flinging half a dozen Sparrows before him. They exploded in a brilliant burst of flame, sending Hannibal reeling. Chase was released from his gravitational hold and was quick to retaliate, dashing forward and driving a kick into his center. The Gravity Grip flew from his hand, soaring over Kimiko’s head, and landing in Avani’s outstretched hands.  
The girl blinked up at her, eyes wide as saucers.  
“Hold on to that,” Kimiko whirled around to meet Hannibal and Chase, launching themselves at her. The three crashed into Avani tumbling into the side of the temple. When the dust settled, four hands were on the Gravity Grip. It began to glow.  
Kimiko muttered something rude in Japanese. Chase glanced at her and smirked.  
“Seems as though we have a Xiaolin Showdown,” he said. Kimiko turned to Avani, who kept her free hand as far from Hannibal as possible.  
“Avani.” Kimiko said. The girl’s attention snapped to her. “I need your help, we need this,” she shook the Gravity Grip, “to be ours. All of us are touching it, so we all have to compete in a contest called a Xiaolin Showdown.”  
“We’ll let you name the game sweetheart,” Hannibal gave her a wink. Avani gagged. Kimiko didn’t think it was for comedic effect.  
“I-I don’t know,” Avani said, “I have no idea what to do!”  
“Pick a game or sport that you’re good at.” She gave Avani what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”  
“It’s unwise to make promises you can’t hope to keep.” Chase said, eyes gleaming. Hannibal chuckled. Avani drew in a shaky breath and opened her mouth, as if to say something, but locked her eyes on something in the sky. They glanced up as Dojo came in for a landing, Omi and what Kimiko assumed must be his Guardian in tow, a redheaded girl who looked more than a little airsick. Chase looked between the two girls, grinning wickedly.  
“Kimiko!” Omi shouted as he dashed to them. “Are you alright?”  
“Peachy,” she muttered. Omi set his gaze on Avani, then rounded the group to meet her.  
“Hello, I am Omi!” He offered his hand. Avani took it, an expression that was equal parts anxiety, amusement, and confusion on her face.  
“Not exactly the time, Omi!”  
He glanced down at the glowing Wu. “Ah, yes, my mistake. Good luck, new friend and Kimiko!” He patted her head as he back off a few paces. Kimiko rolled her eyes.  
“You were saying?”  
Avani nodded. “Gymnastics,” she said.  
“Sounds fun,” Hannibal said with a chuckle. “I wager my Moby Morpher.”  
“I wager the Crouching Cougar,” Kimiko said.  
“I have no Shen Gong Wu,” Chase said, “But I offer a favor to the winner.” Kimiko quirked an eyebrow. A favor? As if she’d ever trust him to do her a favor.  
“I, um, wager...” Avani hesitated, looking back and forth between Kimiko and Omi for help. Omi tossed her the Orb of Tornami. Kimiko was touched at the gesture. Omi practically owned that Wu.  
“I hope my faith in two girls is not misplaced,” Omi said to Dojo, as if they weren’t steps away.  
The touching feeling was gone at once.  
“Let’s go,” Kimiko shouted. “Xiaolin Showdown!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. Life happened, school happened, meds were adjusted. But I'm back and I've got a good schedule to work with! If you could leave a comment if you like it, please do, they make me incredibly happy and they inspire me to write.  
> Thank you for your patience!


End file.
